Millions of men experience mental health challenges every year, which is why Men’s Mental Health Awareness Month, marked every June, matters now more than ever.
Yet, if we’re being honest, how many people even know that such a month exists? And even among those who do, how many actually pause to consider what it means for the men in their lives?
While society has made considerable progress in opening up conversations around mental wellness, the reality for many men remains painfully unchanged.
A large number continue to exist in that silent, dangerous space between functioning and falling apart—not because they are incapable of feeling or breaking, but because they were raised to believe that vulnerability is weakness, and that strength is best demonstrated in isolation.
This brings us to a question that may seem simple on the surface but is far more confronting when asked sincerely: do men have an emergency contact?
If your father, brother, partner, friend, or even your favourite colleague was in a dark place right now, would he feel safe enough to reach out to you? Would he believe that he can express his pain without fear of judgment, or would he hold it in—choosing silence over shame—because the world never taught him another way?
A Crisis That’s Quietly Growing
Men’s mental health is a growing public health issue, even if it’s not frequently labeled as one. Globally, men account for over 70 percent of suicide deaths, according to the World Health Organization (WHO).
In Kenya, a report by the Ministry of Health in 2023 identified that men are significantly less likely to access mental health services compared to women. This is not because they experience less stress or trauma, but largely due to stigma, societal conditioning, and a deep-seated fear of being perceived as weak.
In many cases, men are socialised to internalise pain rather than express it. Words like “be strong,” “man up,” or “don’t show emotion” are instructions they hear from childhood, which they carry into adulthood. Over time, this emotional restraint hardens into isolation. And unfortunately, that isolation becomes dangerous.
Support Systems Are Often Lacking
Unlike women, who tend to have strong interpersonal networks where emotional check-ins are normalised, many men struggle to build or maintain meaningful emotional support systems.
A survey by Movember, a global men’s health charity, found that almost half of all men, 47%, rarely or never open up to their friends about the things they’re going through. Around 27% say they don’t have any close friendships, or in some cases, any friends at all.
And among young men aged 16 to 24, a striking two-thirds would prefer to be labelled “hot-tempered” rather than risk being called vulnerable.
This begs a deeper question: are we raising boys and engaging men in a way that supports their ability to form healthy emotional connections? Do we create room for them to fall apart and still be respected, or do we only value them when they are performing, providing, and remaining stoic?
Success Doesn’t Shield Anyone
It is a common assumption that men in positions of influence, those who are financially stable or socially respected, are emotionally insulated.
But success is not a mental health shield. On the contrary, many high-achieving men experience silent pressure to live up to an image that leaves little room for vulnerability. This can lead to a dangerous combination of anxiety, emotional fatigue, and suppressed mental illness.
Often, their distress doesn’t show up in the ways we expect. It might look like workaholism, disengagement from family, aggression, or dependency on alcohol or drugs. These are not isolated behaviours; they’re coping mechanisms that signal a deeper need for support.
What Can We Do Differently?
Supporting men’s mental health doesn’t require grand gestures—it starts with simple but consistent efforts to foster emotional safety.
Start With Presence, Not Pressure
Men don’t always know how—or when—to open up. So instead of pushing for emotional conversations, build trust through consistency. Show up. Check in. Share space without always expecting disclosure. Your steady presence tells him, “I’m here when you’re ready,” which is sometimes the only invitation needed.
Watch Your Reactions
Men are constantly scanning for judgment when they finally open up. If he shares something vulnerable, how you respond in that moment shapes everything. Avoid overreacting, minimizing, or jumping straight into solutions. Instead, validate what he’s feeling. A simple, “That sounds really heavy, thank you for trusting me with it,” can go a long way.
Make Mental Health Normal in Your Conversations
Talk about therapy. Mention stress. Joke gently about burnout. Let these things exist in your normal chats so it doesn’t feel weird or taboo when he eventually brings them up. This helps remove the stigma and makes emotional conversations feel like part of life—not a crisis event.
Be Emotionally Literate Yourself
You can’t hold space for someone else’s pain if you don’t know how to navigate your own. Emotional literacy means understanding your own triggers, learning to listen without defensiveness, and not making someone’s vulnerability about you. Read up, reflect, and do your inner work too.
Respect Their Silence, But Don’t Confuse It for Strength
If he goes quiet, that doesn’t mean he’s okay. It might mean he doesn’t know how to begin. Gently check in—”Hey, I noticed you’ve been quiet lately. I’m around if you want to talk.” It signals care without cornering him into disclosure.
Be Available, Not Just Accessible
Being a contact in someone’s phone isn’t enough. Ask yourself: have I created an environment where this man knows he can break without being broken further? Would he feel safe calling me at 2 a.m., not just because I’d answer, but because I’d listen?
Encourage Professional Support, Without Making It a Weakness
Let him know that therapy, support groups, or even talking to a doctor isn’t a sign of failure—it’s a form of self-respect. If he’s open to it, offer to help him look up options or even share your own experience if you’ve gone that route. Normalize getting help.
Whether through public messaging, education, or even media storytelling, we must shift the narrative from one that equates masculinity with silence to one that embraces emotional intelligence and community care.
